A Fly Baby Annual

The lead-in to this year's annual was unusual. Previously, the annual
would just come up and we'd do it; no big deal.

This year, it was a bit different. I've already posted the tale of the
Fly Baby losing rudder control while my partner was flying it. He'd just
temporarily fixed it with a paperclip. I'd have to make a more permanent
fix, preferably one that reduced the possibility of another failure.

For the first time, I was annualling an un-airworthy airplane!

One point I should make clear. I do not really "annual" the airplane.
N500F was built in the old days of homebuilding; before such things as
repairman certificates. The Fly Baby's annual must be performed by an A&P.
Any A&P will do... they don't have to have Inspection Authorization.

My friend Ed does the offical annual. Northwest Airlines lost one heck
of a mechanic when Ed got his engineering degree and went to work for Boeing.
He's the ideal person to have inspect your airplane... a mechanic to his
fingertips; an engineer to the last. Sherlock Holmes' powers of observation,
Kelly Johnson's design ability.

It does make Fly Baby annuals interesting.

While the 'Baby doesn't require an IA, Ed and I have evolved into an
A&P/IA relationship when it comes down to maintenance. Ed does the
inspection, I do the work. This is deeper than a typical "owner-assisted"
process... if a replacement part is necessary, I build it. Ed inspects
and identifies the problems, I fix them, then he does the final check and
signoff.

To reduce his "bitch list", I perform my own annual first. So a week
ago Sunday I showed up at the airport with tools on hand.

First item of business was the rudder pedals. Normally, they're hell
to get at on a Fly Baby. There's no cockpit door, and no forward inspection
panels. You have to dive head-first into the cockpit and snake your body
forward under the instrument panel. God help you if you forget a tool.

But N500F had a beautiful modifcation added during its rebuild ten years
ago: A one-foot wide belly inspection panel running from behind the cockpit
to the firewall.

You STILL can't go through the inspection panel and see the rudder pedals.
But you can remove the seat, step carefully into the cockpit, drop your
feet to the ground, then just bend forward at the waist to work in the
legwell.

It looks kind of wild from outside. Until you bend over, your head and
shoulders are in the same position as if you were seated, but your legs
stick out underneath.

A better description? Every time a friend walks by the hangar, they
yell: "Hey Ron! Yabba-dabba do!"

Ignoring the comedians, I removed the paperclip retaining the rudder
turnbuckle clevis, then replaced the clevis pin with a clevis bolt and
castellated nut. I turned the bolts so the end was outboard, so pants legs
couldn't catch on the cotter pin.

While I was under there, I noticed the large cotter pin that kept the
right rudder pedal from sliding free was chewed up. Didn't have a spare
that big, so I hopped into the car and went to "Pep Boys Aerospace" for
some replacements. Did both pedals just out of general principles.

Nut missing on the end of the pivot-bolt for the right rudder pedal;
replace. The bolt seems a bit too short... I'll probably replace it with
a longer one.

Checked the fuel lines while I was under the panel, all OK. Got my can
of LPS-III and blasted everything moveable. Lubed the throttle, carb heat,
and tail hook assemblies.

After climbing out of the cockpit, I checked the airframe. Not too much
to do, actually... check the bracing wires and tangs, open up the elevator
and aileron inspection panels and blast 'em with LPSIII.

There was a tear in the fabric under the left wingtip, from when the
partner got caught in a taxiway under construction and a metal fence post
ripped the tip. Cut out a patch the size of a big band-aid, clean the area
with acetone, dab some Poly-Tac on it, slap the patch on, let it dry for
a bit, then iron it. Two coats of silver dope and two of yellow, and that
task's done.

The engine took a while, as usual. One of the clips holding the cooling
shroud to the cylinders was broken; removed it and gave it to Ed to weld.
Compression test- great. Four or five small cracks in the shroud and cowling
to be stop-drilled. Disassemble and clean the gascolator.

The worst problem was a loose attachment for the throttle cable. The
clamp wouldn't tighten any further. Made a shim from aluminum to use up
the extra space.

Pulled the oil screen. Three or four flecks of metal in it; Ed says
they look like bearing material. We'll track it over the oil changes.

Speaking of oil, I cleaned the oil off the belly using "Simple Green".
I can't praise this stuff enough... in the past, I've tried conventional
cleaners like 409 with poor luck. But Simple Green takes the grease right
off with little effort.

As usual, I picked up the little stuff one leaves until the annual.
Some of the fabric was pulling loose under the coaming; I Poly-Tacked it
in place. One of the belly-pan nutplates was stripped, and was replaced.
Two of the pop rivets in the seat had pulled out and were replaced by bolts.

The Fly Baby also got shook down: Tie a rope to the tailwheel, then
lift the tail until the plane rests lightly on the prop hub. Good for getting
all the garbage out of the tail cone.

One last item: The cable for the tailhook release had a lot of slack
in it. Turns out there's no turnbuckle or anything to adjust it... in any
case, the problem is too much slack in the sheath. I wrapped a couple of
turns of safety wire around it and tied it forward to eliminate the slack.

When Ed came to inspect, he only came up with a couple of other things.
I'd forgotten to lube the tailwheel. Some of the turnbuckles seem to be
picking up corrosion and need a hit of LPSIII. He didn't like the amout
of slack in the oil-temperature bulb wire, so I tie-wrapped the excess
to the engine mount. After the usual amount of grousing and shaking his
head, he finally signed off the logbook.

My favorite comment was the one he made on my throttle cable fix...
"That's not the best way to do that... but it's no worse than the rest
of the stupid system."

(Some may ask, "Then why don't you rework the system?" The answer is,
it may not be the most elegant design, but it's been trouble-free for 32
years....)

So after about ten hours of work (over two weekends and one weeknight)
the Fly Baby is legal for another year. The costs?